


sweet unripe

by slotumn



Series: Lysiclaude pseudo-incest [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Claude von Riegan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Aphrodisiacs, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Extremely Underage, F/M, FE3H Omegirlverse Week, Female Ejaculation, Fingerfucking, First Time, Knotting, Lolicon, Loss of Virginity, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Lysithea von Ordelia, Omega Verse, Or not, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pseudo-Incest, Size Difference, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but is it daddy "kink" if hes actually her dad, implied "claude may not be the best parent figure", implied grooming, just take it, look its daddaughter lysiclaude porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slotumn/pseuds/slotumn
Summary: Claude smelled something wrong the moment he stepped into the house.Literally.(For FE Omegirlverse day 7: free day)
Relationships: Lysithea von Ordelia/Claude von Riegan
Series: Lysiclaude pseudo-incest [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088765
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38
Collections: FEOmegirlverse 2021





	sweet unripe

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I just wrote this all down in one sitting.

Claude smelled something wrong the moment he stepped into the house. 

Literally. 

There was an omega scent drifting in the air, faint and for a lack of better words, _unripe_ , like a green apple or a white strawberry, not quite sweet enough to be picked and savored. 

But ever since he'd adopted Lysithea, he hadn't brought any omegas home; and even if children went through puberty earlier these days, his daughter was still far too young for her first heat, wasn't she?

Unless...

His eyes widened as he heard a high pitched whine— not quite a trill— coming from the bedroon. 

"Papa...? Is that you, Papa...?"

And sure enough, when he ran into his bedroom, Lysithea was in his bed, her tiny naked body curled up and squirming amongst her thrown-off clothes, in what was unmistakably a full-on heat. The nightstand didn't show any signs of being opened, but his daughter was a clever girl— she must have done her best to make it look inconspicuous after taking the heat-inducing drugs inside. 

With a shaky breath, Claude sat down next to her, and carefully lifted her face towards him. 

Her blushing face, with round cheeks and trembling lips and little tears in the corners of her eyes. 

_Fuck_. 

"Papa's here, Lyssie," he whispered, stroking her hair. "Are you feeling okay?"

Lysithea didn't reply, but managed to crawl into his lap and snuggle her face into his chest in response. His scent was probably calming to her, he knew, which was good— but it also showed that there was a wet spot on the blanket where she'd previously laid, and oh gods, her pussy was dripping onto the fabric of his pants as she (probably unconsciously) straddled his thigh and grinded against him. 

Claude took a deep breath, willing himself to suppress his instincts.

Because right now, before he was an alpha, he was her _father_ , and he was going to act the part, dammit.

"Can you tell me what happened, baby?" he asked, once again lifting her face— now with both of his hands, each thumb gently brushing her jaw, right under her ears. "I promise I won't get mad."

Lysithea's eyelids fluttered shut as she continued whining and grinding into him for a few more seconds. She only looked him again after she moaned and shuddered and soaked through his pant leg, the air around them filling with even more pheromones— asking to be fucked and bred and, other things he was _not_ going to do to her, as a responsible parent.

"I, I found candies in your drawer," she hiccupped, tears now rolling down her face. "They didn't look like anything I've seen before, so I wanted to know what they tasted like, and... ah, _ah_ , _Papa_ —"

Just like that, she came again, her back arching. Her tiny pink nipples were erect on her flat chest, and her belly— still slightly round from baby fat— twitched for a few seconds before the strength escaped her and made her fall forward. 

"How... how many did you eat?" he managed to continue. 

"A-all of it— I thought you wouldn't notice because you had so many bottles in the drawer, but," she let out a sob as her hands weakly gripped his shirt, "now I feel really weird and hot and it won't go away, and... a-am I going to die, Papa?"

Claude felt a pang in his chest.

"No, no, of course not. You're going to be alright," he promised, making soft hushing sounds and purrs. "Everything's going to be okay, baby. Papa's here to make you feel better."

His daughter made a relieved almost-trill as she nodded, and Claude kept a calm face as his resolve fell apart inside.

* * *

Lysithea's pussy was wet and burning hot against his lips when he set her laying on the mattress again, legs parted and hoisted over his shoulders. He should control himself, he knew, but with his face buried right there, between his daughter's legs while she was going through a heat— if prematurely and unnaturally— the growls became impossible to suppress.

Claude gave a slow, tentative lick over her cunt, all the way up to her clit, and Lysithea _squealed_ , her legs clamping around his head.

"...Papa, it feels weird," she said, words barely squeaking out between the shaky breath.

His own response, of "Don't worry, it's going to start feeling good soon," was muffled and barely audible, but she still must have heard it, from the way she relaxed her legs slightly. 

That was all he needed to get going, hands gripping her narrow hips with both hands as he began alternating between sucking on her tiny clit and fucking her with his tongue— she moaned out something like, "It's _inside_ ," when he first did, but it didn't seem to be in a negative way, from the way she bucked into his mouth further.

Her insides were tight, so much so that surely getting a single finger inside would have been difficult without something like this to warm her up— all the more reason to be careful and take things step by step, but some treacherous part of him couldn't stop thinking of how good she'd feel around his cock if he began fucking her, right that moment. 

"Ah— ?! Something's coming, something— Papa—"

Her legs thrashed over his back as her body tensed, and hot liquid sprayed over his face so suddenly that he almost ended up digging his nails into her skin. Once she was limp again, though, he managed to take his head away from where it was buried, then took his shirt off to wipe the extra fluids off his face. 

And when he checked on his daughter to see how she was doing— oh, he shouldn't have felt his cock twitch at seeing that panicked, embarassed, innocent expression on her. 

"I didn't mean to— do that, I swear, it was just an— _mmh_?"

The soft kiss he placed on her lips wasn't entirely familial, for sure, but it was a lot more chaste than what it could have been. 

"I know, baby, I know," he said, unable to stop himself from smirking a little. "Don't worry, you didn't pee on me or anything like that. This just means you felt really, really good."

"...Right. I guess... it did feel good."

Lysithea still seemed confused, and maybe he owed her a more detailed explanation; but her heat seemed to be far from over, with how she kept rubbing her legs together and her body against his, and his job was to relieve that first. She didn't resist when he began kissing her again, still with their mouths closed, but his hand trailed down to her pussy and rubbed over the slit, fingertips dipping inside in an attempt to figure out how many she'd be able to take. 

"Hang on, and I'll make you feel even better, okay?"

Once again, she let out a loud squeal as a finger entered her hole. The heat gripped him like a vice, and his thoughts kept wandering to mating her, turning her tiny frame round with his pups, her too-young age be damned—

Claude snapped himself out and concentrated on kissing his daughter's cheeks all over, _gently_ , as a good father should. 

"How does it feel?" he asked, slowly squirming and moving his middle finger inside. 

"I don't know," she answered, overwhelmingly honest. "I didn't know that could go in like that there, and, ah—"

Her cunt squeezed when he curled his finger forward, towards her bellybutton. She became so tight that it almost became impossible to pump his fingers back and forth, but he managed, lightly fucking her through her orgasm as she whispered, "Papa, Papa," again and again. 

That should not have been the moment for him to be suddenly hit by a wave of fatherly affection, to think of how lucky he was that she came into his life. 

But, he began justifying, between wanting to spoil and pamper and only give the best for his daughter in daily life, and between wanting to spoil and pamper and make her feel as good as possible in bed— what was the difference? At heart, it was driven by the same urge to care and nurture, right?

Not by some subconscious recognition that she'd be the perfect mate for him, by some creepy ulterior motive of raising and grooming her into being his bride. 

"Papa, it's— happening again, I'm going to—"

"Mhm, you can come now, Lyssie. Don't hold back."

She didn't, moaning and thrashing as she soaked the sheets underneath, tiny tongue sticking out of her mouth in ecstasy. Yet her stamina still hadn't run out, judging by her eager cries when he worked another finger in and rubbed his thumb over her clit. 

And with her bare torso squirming around in front of like that— he couldn't resist latching his mouth onto her chest, sucking and pressing his tongue against the tiny bump, in time with the thrust of his fingers below. She came, again and again, and soon there was a third finger buried in her cunt, her body quickly learning and adapting to this new pleasure. 

When he finally took them out, his fingers were glossy and coated in her juice, some strings of it still connecting to her entrance, and he _groaned_. His other hand moved on its own, pushing his boxers down and taking his cock out so that he could smear her scent, an omega's scent, all over his shaft. 

He would have missed Lysithea staring at it, wide-eyed, if she hadn't scrabled to sit up and brought her face closer to his length. 

"Are you okay, Papa? Why is this... I haven't..."

 _Ever seen it like that before_ , she meant. And she did sound genuinely concerned, even in the middle of her own heat, but the way her eyes were fixed on it, like a cat on a laser, he could tell she was feeling something more, some primal draw and urge that she hadn't— couldn't and _shouldn't_ have— learned how to express yet. 

With a chuckle, Claude lifted both of them to stand on their knees and leaned over to kiss her again, this time encouraging her to open her mouth with his tongue. She made a little surprised gasp, but once again, let him, even hanging onto his forearms and wriggling her hips when his hand moved to grope her ass. 

"Papa's fine," he assured, hugging her close enough for the head his cock to press into the pit of her stomach. "There's nothing wrong with me here— in fact, I'm going to use it to make you feel really, really good."

Lysithea's next whine was of both extreme confusion and unbearable need. 

As Claude fell back onto the mattress and hoisted her onto his lap, he decided to focus on the latter instead of the former. He actually had to get her to stand up on her feet and squat to line his cock up with her hole, which she followed, as if in a trance, and—

"Papa— !!!"

—her yelp was in pain, as her body slammed down far too quickly on his cock, but gods, it felt _wonderful_. 

But he wasn't so selfish as to start fucking her right away, because he was her father, and he was doing this for _her_ , he reminded himself, purring and kissing her tears away and reaching down to rub her clit until those sweet, pleasured not-quite trills returned.

"...Papa's really big," was her first coherent observation after catching her breath and looking down at her stomach, bulging with his cock. 

"I think it's more that my dear Lyssie is so small," he teased, almost like this was one of their regular playtimes; Lysithea responded like it was, too, huffing and lightly punching his shoulder. 

Then she moaned as she accidentally shifted on his cock and— it sank even further in, until he felt the head hit what must have been her cervix. Lysithea squeezed her eyes and shook, for the upteenth time since they began, and when she gave him a half-lidded look afterwards, all she said— had to say— was a small,

"Please."

 _I'm a terrible father_ , Claude thought, gripping her hips, pulling out, and slamming in again. 

Adopting this omega girl who was left without her parents, pretending to be someone who genuinely wanted to protect her from the scumbags out there who'd take advantage of her, only to fuck her like this the first chance he got— if there were afterlives, he was going straight to the Church of Seiros' Hell, or some equivalent thereof. 

"Papa, Papa, ah, _Papa_ —"

"I'm here, Lyssie— Papa's going to take care of you, oh, _fuck_ —"

If someone found out, if child protection agencies came to take his daughter away from him, there was no way he could make a case for himself, he thought, through depraved, affectionate, ravenous kisses. 

"Papa— love you, Papa—"

He couldn't let that happen.

What would he do, if they took away the light of his life, his pride and joy, his one and only love?

A growl rose in his chest as his thrusts grew more erratic.

"Love you too, Lyssie," he panted out, forcing his face even lower to bury into the crook of her neck. "Always will. Papa's always going to be here for you."

"Of course you will, ah— you have to, I'm gonna get," a sob, then a wail came out of her, much to his alarm, "really really mad, if you ever... you ever... leave me, ah, _Papa— !!!_ "

Warm liquid splattered across his lower stomach as she came again, but he couldn't stop thrusting, fucking her towards his own climax and licking over her mating gland, still unrripe like her scent— but theoretically, the bonding would still work, they'd inseparable. 

"...Oh, _gods_ , I love you."

He bit into her neck at the same time his knot swole, locking the two of them into place as his cum flooded into his daughter's body. 

No going back now, he thought, as her emotions— confused and joyful and relieved and absolutely, innocently loving— all washed over him at once. 

* * *

Claude woke up because of Lysithea poking his face all over. 

"Papa, it's evening," she said. "We should have dinner."

For a moment, he wondered if everything that happened was just a dream, but the bite mark on her neck and the dried cum on her inner thighs showed that, no, that was real. 

He had mated, knotted, and bonded with his own daughter, and the regret, the guilt, the panic—

—didn't hit him. 

He felt lighter, if anything, like a weight had been lifted off his chest. 

Claude yawned as he sat up, giving a big hug to Lysithea in the process, as he always did, kissing and nuzzling her cheek until she complained about his beard being itchy. 

"Come on— you said I can't miss meals if I wanna grow big, so let's go have dinner already," she whined, grabbing his arm and rubbing against it with her bare chest.

"Alright, alright, I got you," he chuckled, quickly putting his boxers on before getting off the bed and scooping his daughter up in his arms. "No ice cream or cake unless you eat your veggies, though!"

Lysithea stuck her tongue out at him, but stayed docile in his arms as he made his way out of the bedroom. She felt a little embarassed and puzzled from what just happened, he could tell— but she also loved and trusted him so much that it made his heart skip, and most importantly, she felt safe with him.

That was enough, he decided, setting her on the higher chair at the table. As long as he was her safe place, as long as she loved him more than anything else, as family or otherwise, he could find a way to make things work, despite (because of) what he just did. 

They wouldn't have to lose each other, and that was the most important thing, he thought, and turned around to take an apron—

"Papa."

—only to be stopped by Lysithea tugging on his arm. 

"Yes, Lyssie?" 

She beckoned him to lean down, and tentatively, kissed him on the lips, clumsy and sweet. 

"...What we did felt, um, really good," she whispered, blushing. "Can we... do that again later? Even if I don't feel weird from the candy?" 

Claude smiled, kissing her back. 

"Anything for my daughter."

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the [Lysiclaude NSFW Bingo](https://twitter.com/lysiclaudensfw?s=09)!  
>   
> [Join the Lysiclaude Discord!](https://discord.gg/GZmtGbw)  
>   
> [My twitter](https://twitter.com/slotumn?s=09)  
> 


End file.
